Shoot the night
by plaquettaire
Summary: From the story: "She covered her naked skin with arms, trying not show too much to him. She was afraid of looking just like a girl to him. She was afraid of not being enough: he would like much more a woman, curvy and hot, not just her. She was tiny, thin, short, flat. Maybe it could be good for a boy, but not for a man, not for Daryl anyway." Enjoy ;) and be kind with me!


Hello everybody!

This is my first attempt with an English story. I'm doing this for fun, so I know you are thinking that maybe this story won't be enjoyable for an English speaking person, but can you give a chance? You can always go back and forget about this thing! Oh and be kind, pleasee! As I said, I'm trying, I tried!

I don't own any of these characters of course!

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I can't tell you when this story has its time, where it's placed, what those people had to get there, where or when they were. I wish I can tell it like a tale. Once upon a time a girl, woman, and a man met in a zombie apocalypse and then... I wish I can, but truth is no one of them knew that. There was no time, there was no place, not how or why. He forgot about these things while he was looking at her. She never thought about it, she was always living in the present, enjoying the world, no matter what. At least she tried every time. That was her strenght, what he saw in her.

They were just standing facing one another, looking in the eyes in an eternal moment, what matter when it was?

Beth raised her hand, hesitantly wavering, almost shaking, and put it on his chest, where his heart was lying. She waited just some moments and then she felt it. It was so strong and so fast, it was like feeling a race beneath her hand. So many beats, one after another, running wildly. She raised her eyes looking for his owns. She met his gaze on her, staring her, he was so serious, his eyes were so focused on her. He was so steady while she was so moving, impossible to stay still, dancing uncomfortable on her feet, looking at his face, his eyes, his mouth, her own hand on his heart.

She swallowed, then she took his hand and placed it on her heart. He didn't stop her. Daryl felt her gentle hand on his, it was so small and soft on his skin and he wondered how a so tiny thing survived till then. Beth was breathing hard under his touch, her chest rose and fell as she was gasping for breath that never comes. When he felt it, that tiny wild heart, he marveled, amazed. He immediately felt uneasy. What did that mean? Why was she... He knew why he was doing whatever he was doing. So was she... Was also Beth...

He had no time to rise his eyes on her and ask silently, because she cutted the distance between the two of them, lifting on tiptoes and her lips where on his. They were unstable, trembling until she adjusted her self, finding her balance in his arms and he felt her lips pressed forcefully on his. Daryl's gaze was stiff on her shut eyes, on the little black dust spot on her cheek, not really looking at her and he didn't know what to do. His head was sizzling, crackling, until he allowed just for a tiny moment his eyes to shut and suddenly everything was clear, everything was gone.

When she felt him relax, she lowered the grip of her lips on his, allowing him to move them on hers and the demanding kiss became gentle and sweet.

Daryl's lips were moving on her, with hers, trying a kiss and another one, and another.

Daryl's kisses were wet, thrilling and rousing.

When they got separated, not by her will, she loosened his plaid shirt's first buttons in a hurry. She wasn't thinking, or maybe it was the most reasonable thought she may have ever had. She could be dead on the morning, some assholes could take her again, walkers were increasing day by day, or worse they could die from starving any day. Beth unbotted his shirts, opened it and placed one hand on his skin.

Daryl stayed still watching her. He was breathing hard, almost choking. What was she doing? Could he really believe it? Was it happening? He never wanted to think about it. He was so sure she would have never ever even like someone like him. He thought her attachment for him was due to the time they shared, because she was alone and maybe, or for sure, she would have preferred to stay with her sister and never get close to him again. Why would she?

But she was there. She had kissed him and she was undressing him and what the hell, he was supposed to know what to do, where he should have put his hands, how touch her. His hands was lying along his hips, heavy. He kept looking at her, studying her, trying to follow her mental racing. She was still, unmovable, her eyes on his skin, on his chest. Beth longed it so hard. She imagined everything in her mind when she was in captivity: to be taken, pushed somewhere, kissed, get stripped in a haste. Passion, love, hurry. Almost what every girl could dream about.

She had just a blurry idea of it. He was still, she didn't know what to do, what's next. Maybe she should have allowed Zach to... No, no. What the hell was wrong with her? She reached the edges of her own shirt, lifted it on her belly, on her breast, over her head. He shook his head and he heard Merle's voice, haunting him even in that time: she's more a man than ya, baby brother! Well, maybe not that much as he could see. He was supposed to rip her dress apart, wasn't he? Was it what he teached to him? He stretched out his hands and helped her, just lightly touching her. He wasn't his brother.

She covered her naked skin with arms, trying not show too much to him. She was afraid of looking just like a girl to him. She was afraid of not being enough: he would like much more a woman, curvy and hot, not _just her_. She was tiny, thin, short, flat. Maybe it could be good for a boy, but not for a man, not for Daryl anyway. Beth lowered her eyes, not looking at him anymore.

Daryl caught the change and maybe realized what was growing in her mind. He had things to be afraid of to show to her. His back reminded him he wasn't enough for her as well. He reached her with no hesitation and wrapped her body in his skin, embracing her for the first time. He felt her tiny body so warm against his. His hands hovered upon her arms, lightly touching her back, so smooth, perfect. He was holding a pace on her, making her relax. Beth winced at the beginning, then she felt perfectly at ease in his arms, protected, loved. She asked to herself what he was feeling for her. If it was the same she was feeling for him.

Daryl felt Beth chilling out on him, abandoning her hands on his chest and he wasn't sure to be ready for it. He forced himself to not freeze or run or push her aside. It was so weird to do nothing, to let her touching him. Instead he wrapped his arms around her awkwardly, winding her. Daryl discovered his thumb to move up and down on her back.

Her breast was moving with her breath on his stomach, pressing on it with each inspiration. He could feel the curve of its side, the gentle popping out of her nipples. Something was emerging and growing in his body. He could sense the pressure in his hips, in hips pants, beneath her hands that were lowering and lowering, moving on his belly, his groin. He stopped her immediately grabbing her wrist. Beth raised her eyes on his and she found him looking ahead over his head. Daryl passed his tongue on his lips, nervous. He barely stepped, changing position from a foot to another, and then he watched down at her. He gently picked her up his arms surprising her. He lowered them both falling on his knees. Beth clung to his neck and in a second she was on the ground, covered by his warm body. His breath was on her face, his hair were falling from his head. She took them in a caress and put them aside of his face, touching him lightly with her fingertips. He swallowed. No one has never touched him like that. He didn't need to, he was so sure and so wrong. And she knew it.

Daryl was gasping for breath, feeling her skin, her caresses, her body. It was too much and he tried as best he could to hide his arousal and rush that was pushing in his head and in his body, so as to not frighten her. He was afraid even of putting his hands on her, touching her hips in the process. Afraid of how she can feel, if she would run away, and how it could affect him. So he put them aside, enabling his nose to wave on her skin, her neck, between her breast, on her stomach, on her belly, while his falling hair was tracing an invisible line on her, a line marked by her open mouth, sighs and chills.

He unbuckled her belt, her jeans, trying to catch breath in the process. When her trousers were gone, she lifted her hands on him, catching his pants and pushing them down so fast, so exciting. He put his hands between the two of them and grabbed himself, leaving her just to wait for him.

Daryl realized suddenly what he was going to do, what was happening and he stopped. The arousal, the frenzy, was about to slow down. He removed his hand from his penis carefully to not touch her and rested his elbow on the floor. He was keeping time by the heavy breath she was catching, counting them. He couldn't look at her: she was looking right at him, he should have met her eyes to do. He looked just down then, just an inch up of his right shoulder where a ball of dust was rolling.

She didn't really know how to do that, she just knew the theory, what everyone could learn on school or by books and magazines she was used to steal from Maggie. She felt embarrassed too, but she couldn't say it. She had to encourage Daryl after all. So she uplifted her face, met his neck and left there a gentle kiss. He turned his face to her, she closed her eyes and swallowed. He swallowed and gently touched her face with the tip of his calloused finger, the cheekbone, that tiny fold near her mouth. She was tightening her lips, maybe she was afraid.

"Y' okay?" he asked her. His voice came out clumsily, soft, hoarsely all in one.

She opened her eyes, watched at him directly and then shortened the distance between the two of them and kissed him blind. He winced at the first, so he relaxed adjusting himself on her and closed his eyes. Maybe that feeling, the rush, was coming, demanding to be felt again, pushing strongly in his mind. He could feel it again, overwhelming, like the fear but better, like he was fighting to survive, like her lips were what mattered between life and death. He was trembling.

Beth settled on her back again, she smiled. Then she turned her head and noticed his finger was still tangled in her blond locks near her head and she smiled again. She reached his fingertips and caught one of them with her lips. She saw it one time in a movie: there were this man and this woman and she licked his fingers and he hoisted her and pushed her somewhere and she couldn't know what was next because she covered her eyes. But she wanted to look like that woman to him. She could.

Daryl swallowed and his heart run faster. He couldn't breath and so he left his mouth half open and kept looking at her, as her gentle lips was covering and sucking his thumb, and oh god she looked so amazing and he guessed what else she could do with those lips. He left his finger tracing a line over her mouth, looking for the wet contact of her tongue, craving for it. She took the hint and she bit his finger, licking it in the process. She smiled. That was funny. His face, his feeling, that was for her, for what she was doing. It was funny. Maybe it wasn't supposed to be funny.

He didn't know why she was doing it, but he smiled too with her. Her happy face was just the one beautiful thing left in the world. And it was for him. No one else was looking at it. No one else she allowed to. No one.

"Is your fir.." she started. His voice was so faint.

"Yes!" she responded in a hurry, cutting him off. She didn't want to hear it, doesn't want to feel like before.

He nodded. He wasn't sure at all. She was so pretty, so beautiful, so pure and she had two boyfriends for what he knew. "I'll be gentle." he said, trying to reassure her. Maybe if he wasn't trembling, his statements could sound more convincing.

"You are!" she said simply and there was no fear, no hesitation in her words. What the hell, she was reassuring him!

Daryl lowered his hand, placing it between the two of them, grabbing himself and pushing it between her legs, finally trying to force himself in. He was looking down, where their bodies met. She was looking at him, his ear, his hair, caressing them, waiting, till a tiny flip of pain hit her. And it was just a moment, she tensed and then let go. And it was all about! From that moment she could feel him, he was all around her, he was surrounding her, she could feel him anywhere and it was so good, so perfect. She wished she could freeze that moment and live in it for ever. She realized just then, just in that perfect moment, she loved him, she loved him so much. And if she died on the next day from a walker, she would be okay. Her eyes rolled back and she shut her eyelids, leaving his mouth open.

He felt her tense and he worried, looked at her and searching for any sign of something wrong.

She was waiting for him moving. When he didn't, she looked up at him, caught his eyes that were waving frantically on her as they do when he's outside in search. Was he studying her? They hooked their gazes and she took his face in her hands, putting aside his sweaty hair, exposing his eyes, discovering his worried and even astonished expression.

Beth smiled again. "I'm okay." she whispered. She didn't expect to smile so many times.

Daryl nodded and grunted something. Beth rolled up her legs around his waist, pushing him more inside. She arched, he moaned and then following her hint, he started to move, create a pace, not entirely knowing what he was doing with her. His breath was flattering on her skin, mixing with hers in a matt cloud between them. He could be never tired of her, of that, of looking at her writhing beneath him, covering her like a blanket, making her skin hotter and hotter with any move.

Daryl hid his face in the crook of her neck, trying so hard to breath and to feel all in once. He left there a kiss, pushed by an instinct he didn't really know to have. A bit followed there and a kiss again. That was right. That, everything, felt so right to him. He had to wait for so long to meet her, an apocalypse was necessary to make their ways crossed. He couldn't think on something that felt fairer than that to him. He kissed that tiny drop of skin on her collarbone again and again. He was like freed.

Beth whined more than once.

His attention moved from her neck to her face. She felt his gaze on her and opened her eyes to see him and moaned again.

"I'm sorry," she started "I couldn't hold it."

"Don't" he said. He loved her voice, always. And for that moment it was even better than her singing. He thought he may love her. He never spoke that word. He never loved something, someone. He couldn't. Or at least it was what he thought before. But he was pretty sure to love her. He would never tell her, but... she may have got it. She may.

Her moans were increasing and increasing. Beth thightened the grip of her legs around him and it was like heaven for both. She smiled one last time when she found their hands laced together.

She wished she could shoot the night and let it die with them, while the world was ending.


End file.
